


Wrath of the Dragon's Daughter

by blackgoldberry



Category: Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: BAMF Daenerys Targaryen, Daenerys Targaryen Deserves Better, Daenerys Targaryen Is Not a Mad Queen, Daenerys Targaryen Lives, Daenerys Targaryen-centric, Drama, Gen, Politics, Targaryen Restoration, They'll End up Together, Violence, background jonerys - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-08-29
Updated: 2021-01-20
Packaged: 2021-03-07 01:13:49
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 3
Words: 8,377
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26178547
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/blackgoldberry/pseuds/blackgoldberry
Summary: Daenerys has enemies on all sides. Some obvious, others not as much. And some pretend to be allies. But one thing is clear: the Iron Throne is hers, and those who conspire against her will receive Fire and Blood. Season 8 AU.
Relationships: Jon Snow/Daenerys Targaryen
Comments: 44
Kudos: 146





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> So there are plenty of Daenerys deals with her enemies season 8 AU's and I decided to do one. People who betrayed and conspired against Daenerys in Season 8 are going to get what's coming to them. Hope you all enjoy this series!

Daenerys stared at the fire, the orange flames reflecting a strange, yet intense light off her eyes. The Iron Throne was hers, by right, and blood, and already people conspired to take it from her.

She had told Jon in the crypt, _do you not find that strange?_ And even then, she still found it odd that Jon's brother and best friend were the ones that had obtained this vital piece of information.

Bran...was a strange creature, something or someone intertwined with magic, and he was her lover's brother. She would give him the benefit of the doubt for the moment.

There would be no such quarter when it came to Samwell Tarly.

She remembered the tightness of that fat face, the quivering of his lips, and tightness of those pig-like eyes. He had wanted to cry when he had been informed of his father and brother's deaths. Did he not understand it was war? And she had given them a choice to bend the knee or take the black, but they defied her anyway.

In his attempt at retribution, he informed Jon of his true parentage, of the Targaryen blood that flowed through his veins.

A wave of violent anger swept through her, and she gritted her teeth. She was tempted to summon Drogon right then and there. Fire and blood.

Rival claims aside, Daenerys did not blame Jon for his parentage. A part of her rejoiced to know that she was not the last of her house. Fate had brought the two dragons together, and it explained why Rhaegal even allowed Jon to mount him. He was the blood of the dragon and of old Valyria.

It was the circumstances of it, that fouled what should have been a delightful revelation. A revelation that she was not alone in this world.

The truth of Jon's parentage was told in an attempt to undermine her and her claim to the Iron Throne. It was told to set Jon against her.

Samwell Tarly, furious at the deaths of his brother and father, told Jon who he truly was to get back at her. The sniveling, fat fool. It was a laughable attempt. Perhaps he thought Daenerys would be too stupid to figure it out?

So many men had conspired against her; she had to develop a bit of a nose for sorting it out.

"My queen?" There was a knock on the door, the quiet of Missandei's voice.

Daenerys rose to her feet and opened the door, allowing her dearest friend into her chambers. Missandei had been a loyal and faithful friend in the long and hard journey. Her friend had been used to scorn and derision, and Dany hated it. She had not missed those vile reports. Northerners looking down upon her people, because they weren't the First Men, because their skin was the wrong shade of color. She would break them of that in the end. There could be no such divisions in her kingdom.

"Missandei, how are you?" Daenerys gave her a gentle smile as she led her to a chair seated from across her own.

"Forgive me your grace, but I meant to ask you that," Missandei said as she took her seat, her eyes filled with a soft yet deep concern.

The fresh ache in her heart reared before she willed it to quiet down at the moment. Ser Jorah and many of her people had fallen in the Wight's war. And all for an ungrateful and hateful people."I could be better," she acknowledged as she sat across from Missandei. "In truth, I have been thinking of my enemies."

"Cersei Lannister," Missandei supplied.

"Her too." Daenerys nodded. "But I know how I will deal with her. I have other enemies, unfortunately. Others that would seek to undermine me through treason."

The alarm in Missandei's face was clear. "Your grace?"

"Never fear," the Targaryen said, a cunning smile lighting her face. "I have always dealt with my enemies. This is more treacherous ground, though, as it comes near to home."

Daenerys trusted Missandei with her life, so she told her. The secret that could take everything from her, everything she had worked towards.

Missandei shook her head, her gentle curls swaying slightly. "The Iron Throne is yours by right."

They were of the same mind. "True, but some would say, and there is precedence for it, that the male comes before the female." While she had ruled in Meereen, she had read as much as she could on Westeros. The Great Council, 101 years after Aegon's Conquest, had set the precedent that the Iron Throne could not pass to a woman or a male descendant of a woman.

Rhaenyra Targaryen had attempted to defy this precedence and died in the attempt to take her crown. Brought down and killed by her own kin, Aegon II.

If they thought Daenerys Targaryen, the First of Her Name, the Breaker of Chains and Mother of Dragons was going to meet the same fate, they had best think again.

Missandei raised an eyebrow. "Was it not the actions of men that brought about the near-extinction of your grace's house?"

"So very much true," Daenerys agreed. "Even more reason not to listen to their rules about female succession. The Iron Throne is mine, and by all rights, I am the head of House Targaryen." After all, she had worked to bring her house back from exile and to its former glory. Not Jon, who had been brought up as a bastard wolf and had never cared for their house.

"So how will your grace deal with Samwell Tarly?" Missandei asked.

"The same as he intended to do with me," the Dragon's Daughter said with a gentle smile. He had tried to set her against Jon, aunt against nephew, Targaryen against Targaryen. She would pay him in the same coin. "He will learn that he should not have tried to play the game. And certainly not against a master, at that." She clasped her hands together. "What do you think of visiting Oldtown? There is something there of importance I need you to retrieve."

...

"You...you are sure?" Samwell breathed heavily as he stared at Gilly.

Gilly smiled. "Yes, I'm with your child, Samwell Tarly."

A father, he was going to be a father. A huge grin broke out on his face, and he crushed Gilly into a bear-like hug. He broke it off abruptly. "Um, what? Er, how far along?"

"About a month," Gilly said, her brown eyes twinkling.

"Well, um, you should um rest, and I will go and fetch you some milk." Yes, that should be good for a pregnant woman.

Gilly laughed. "Alright, but make it quick."

Sam made his way to the kitchens, his heart soaring, and his cheeks flushed with happiness. That is until he came across Jon, who gave him a grim look.

"Sam," the Warden of the North said flatly. "You're wanted in the great hall."

Sam blinked at him in confusion. "Oh? Alright then," he said as he followed Jon into the great hall where he saw there was a small gathering of people present. None of the faces he knew, except for the ones at the great table. Jon took a seat there, along with Sansa and Daenerys.

His face tightened as he caught sight of the Targaryen queen. She was dressed warmly in a black coat striped with red, the colors of her house. Her white-gold hair was pulled back slightly and woven into a few braids, but the rest of it tumbled down her shoulders and back. Her violet eyes were impassive until they happened across him. There was a flicker of something in them before she turned her gaze from him. He felt his chest tighten, and a sense of foreboding washed over him.

"Sam," Jon called. "You may approach."

Sam walked to the great table, a raging fear settling in the depths of his gut. "Jon," he stammered out. "What's this all about?"

"You may approach as well, my lady Tarly," Daenerys spoke, and a figure in a great cloak, stood and walked up to the great table. The hood was pulled back, revealing his younger sister, Talla Tarly.

"Talla?" Sam was confused. "What are you doing here?"

"I've come to claim what is mine by right," Talla said, her eyes brimming with unshed tears. "How could you?"

He had never been as confused as he was right now. "Talla, I..I don't know what you are talking about."

"He has a right to know the accusations, at least," Jon said pointedly.

"He stole our family's Valyrian sword, Heartsbane, from Horn Hill, that's what he did," Talla said sourly. "My father never gave it to him, nor would he ever. It's mine by right as the head of House Tarly."

Sam felt his face flush as everyone stared at him. "I'm the eldest," he sputtered out. "I was denied it out of spite."

"Denied by whom?" Queen Daenerys asked, raising a silver eyebrow.

"My father," Sam spat out, feeling the old anger burst forth. "He's always hated me. He was a brute to me all my life and banished me to the Night's Watch."

"Randyll Tarly?" Daenerys mused. "Forgive me. I was of the understanding that you and your father were close." Her violet eyes twinkled with malice. "You mourned his death quite deeply."

Bitch! Sam could see where this was going and who had a hand behind this whole farce. "You, you," he sputtered.

Jon scowled. "Remember, she's your queen," he said coolly. "Where is the damn sword?"

"I gave it to Ser Jorah." Sam lifted his chin. "He had better use for it than I did."

Talla laughed, but it was not a happy one. "You _bastard_ , you steal Heartsbane, and then you _give it away_?"

Sam found there was nothing to say to that. He was guilty. The only question that remained: How was he to be punished?

"Lady Tarly, I will send you and two Unsullied to search the remains where Jorah was burned." The Dragon Queen nodded to two of her Unsullied, who escorted Talla out of the great hall.

The silence that passed was deafening, and Sam felt like he was going to empty his stomach right then and there.

He looked at Jon imploringly. "I didn't mean any harm," he said. "You know I didn't."

Jon nodded. "I know," he said quietly and then fell into silence.

Half an hour passed, and Talla and the two Unsullied returned, the great sword clutched tightly against Talla's chest.

"This is very good to see," the Dragon Queen said. "I am glad that you have your family's ancestral sword once more. Bear it well, lady Tarly."

Sam snorted. She couldn't even fight. How was she going to bear it well?

Daenerys gave him a searing look. "As for the proper punishment..."

"I demand he be punished," Talla said, her eyes flashing. "This was a grievous theft. And from a man who was a member of the Night's Watch. What business did he have taking property?"

"Your sword has been returned," Jon pointed out, and Sam was glad once again that Jon Snow was his friend. He would be a good ruler. "I think Sam has learned his lesson."

"The great and small must obey the law." Daenerys rose to her feet. "Stealing to fill one's belly? To stave off the pain of starvation? I could understand that. But this is something else entirely. This was plain theft of a Valyrian sword, and it violates the laws of Westeros."

"Dany," Jon began when she held up a hand.

"I realize my lord that Samwell Tarly is your best friend but remember that you yourself spoke of how it angered you that Tywin Lannister took your family's ancestral sword for his own purposes. Would you not demand punishment if he was here before us?"

Sam's heart sank even further at Jon's responding silence. "He doesn't deserve death," the Warden in the North finally said.

Daenerys regarded the rightful King of Westeros coolly. "Of course not. It would be a grievous theft if the sword remained lost, but since it has found its rightful owner once more, I think it is a petty theft and should be dealt with accordingly." She nodded to her Unsullied, who surrounded Sam and seized his arms. "He stole it, then gave it away, and defended his wrongdoing. Cut off three of his fingers on his left hand."

And then, the contents of Sam's stomach were on the ground of the great hall. Jon sighed and closed his eyes, while his sister, Sansa, who had remained unusually silent, turned away in disgust.

Sam was brought to what looked to be a forge, where they placed his left hand on the stone, and one of the Unsullied raised his blade, sharp and utterly lethal.

"Please, please!" Sam whimpered, a foul smell filling the forge as his bowels loosened.

The Unsullied didn't flinch and brought the blade down on each required finger. The pain was great, and Sam's screams could be heard throughout Winterfell.

...

Daenerys looked up from the parchment she was writing upon and smiled as she heard the faint echoes of screams throughout Winterfell.


	2. Chapter 2

"Half are gone," Grey Worm said as he removed half the pieces of her army from the war map on the table.

"The Northmen as well," Jon said grimly as he removed half of the Northern pieces as well.

"The Golden Company has arrived at King's Landing," Varys supplied as he added a gold coin at the center of King's Landing. "This war is becoming distressingly equal."

Which could have been avoided if she had gone with her earlier instinct and dealt with Cersei first. She would not make that mistake again. No man would make her doubt herself again.

"The people will hear of what has happened here," Missandei said with an air of quiet confidence. "They will hear how we have saved them."

Daenerys shook her head. "No, Cersei will make sure they'll never believe it." Her mouth formed a hard line. 'We will hit her hard. We will rip her out, root and stem."

Tyrion gave her a slightly scolding look. She was weary of such looks from him. It was she who should scold him. "The objective here is to remove Cersei without destroying King's Landing."

The Queen looked at the man who was currently Hand of the Queen. "Remind me," she said softly. "What advice was I was given when I desired to attack the Red Keep at the beginning?"

Tyrion flinched and looked away, and Jon had the grace to look ashamed as well. "You were right," her nephew said. "You should have flown your dragons to the Red Keep and burned it down when you landed on Dragonstone. It would have saved us a lot of grief."

"Cersei is losing allies," Vary continued. "Asha Greyjoy has retaken the Iron Islands in her Queen's name, and the new Princess of Dorne has pledged her support for you."

It pleased her to hear such tidings. However, it did not change the essential truth. "I need the capital," she said grimly. It was the seat of the Seven Kingdoms and the seat of her house. As long as Cersei held it, the wench could call herself Queen.

"I watched the people of the city turn against their king once," Tyrion said. "They were hungry, and that was before winter even began. Allow them the opportunity to turn against Cersei." They had plenty of time for that, hadn't they? The lioness had blown a sept to hell with wildfire. And all so that she could escape charges that were laid at her feet.

But then sometimes the fear can be so great. How long had it taken her to stand against Viserys? She had tried to survive him, and perhaps the people of King's Landing were trying to do the same thing.

"We'll lay siege to the city," Jon added." Surround the capital. If the Iron Fleet tries to ferry in food, the dragons can destroy them."

"They won't even be a consideration," Daenerys said after staring at her nephew for several moments. She would need to speak to him about the dragons later on in a more private moment. "I intend to destroy the Iron Fleet before we even reach the capital."

The silence that greeted her allowed her to move to her next point. "And I am the rightful Queen of the Seven Kingdoms. Not just Dragonstone, the Westerlands, and the North."

"Your grace?" Tyrion questioned, clearly curious as to the line of her thought.

She barely refrained from rolling her eyes. "Dorne, the Iron Islands, the Stormlands, the Riverlands, the Vale, and the Reach," she listed them off. "They must all send troops to join our cause." Her armies and the Northern army were battle-weary, but they would not bear the main brunt of another war. Fresh troops from the other kingdoms would help with that.

Once again, silence greeted her words, and this time, she rolled her eyes in exasperation. "Asha and Sarella of Dorne have already pledged their support. I have made Gendry Lord of the Stormlands though he will need some help securing his title and the support of any rebellious lords (which she would tend to once she had taken Dragonstone), so it is the Riverlands, the Reach, and the Vale that concern me."

"My uncle is dealing with the chaos in the Riverlands, and Robin Arryn refused to aid us in the Wight War. You can ask, but I am certain he will once again refuse us." Sansa said impassively.

The Queen pursed her lips. "He'll bend the knee and supply us with troops, or I will burn the Eyrie to the ground." House Arryn had been guilty of overthrowing her family. She would not tolerate further defiance from them. "The same goes for the Riverlands."

"Your grace," Varys began, a troubled look on his clean-shaven face.

"No." She gave the eunuch a sharp look. "This is how Aegon himself did it. And no one questioned his sanity." Varys quickly looked away under the weight of her gaze.

Arya and Sansa exchanged a look but remained quiet. Good.

"As for the Reach," Daenerys continued. "Mace Tyrell's children are all dead. However, he had a sister, Mina Tyrell, who was the eldest daughter of his father, and she herself has two sons and a daughter. She will be Lady Paramount of the Reach."

Daenerys turned to Tyrion. "Send the ravens." She looked at Jon. "You and Greyworm prepare the armies to march." She looked down at the great map of Westeros. "I want Greyjoy and Arryn to bring their armies to Riverrun. While we are in the Riverlands, we shall help Lord Tully to restore order." She gave Sansa a pointed look. "From there, we shall go to King's Landing. Baratheon, Martell, and Tyrell will gather their armies and meet us at King's Landing."

"That sounds like a good plan," Ser Davos Seaworth said, his tone approving. "But can we count on the likes of Arryn and Tully?"

Daenerys shrugged. "Either they bend the knee and bring troops, or their lines will end. Do you know of many people who will choose the latter?"

"Harren the Black is an infamous example," Sansa said icily.

The Targaryen Queen cocked her head to the side. "So you're certain your cousin and uncle are that stupid and will not bend the knee?" She couldn't keep the mocking tone out of her voice. "I will summon Drogon now and make quick work of them."

Missandei hid a smile, but others looked at her in shock. "Your grace!" Jon protested, his eyes flashing dangerously. Was it the dragon in him or the wolf? Either way, she would not be cowed by it.

"What? I am taking Sansa's word in regards to your family," she said calmly. Inwardly, she was seething. She was sick of her nephew's other family. When she was done, she would break the Starks, the Tullys, and the Arryns. She had not forgotten their rebellion against her entire family. She could understand her father being deposed, but her entire family was not guilty of his crimes. "She would know him better than I."

Sansa's face flushed. "They should be given the opportunity..." Her voice stammered off at the end. _Checkmate she-wolf._

The sigh that escaped her lips was just a tad bit dramatic. "Very well then, my lady," she said, successfully holding back her smile. "I will give them a fair chance. Send the ravens, my lord Hand, and be quick about it."

"And what does your grace intend to do?" Davos Seaworth asked. "Will you travel with the army?"

Daenerys shook her head. "I need to secure Dragonstone once more. I will sail with a smaller force down south. When I take Dragonstone, I will send a raven to Riverrun, and then you will march south." There was more to be said about that, but first, she would speak with Jon, alone.

"I still think the men need more time to recover," Sansa said stiffly, her hands clasped behind her back.

Daenerys stared her down. Insolent wench. "A fortnight more," she finally agreed, her face showing a reluctance, but inwardly she reveled in the fact that it would suit what she intended next.

After the council meeting, Daenerys sent for Jon. She was seated at a table, going over several strategies she had in mind to deal with Euron Greyjoy's fleet. She heard the knock and opened the door, allowing Jon to step into her chambers.

Her nephew looked around, and she could see the lust and longing in his eyes. Well, if he would get over his crisis in regards to being a Targaryen, she would gladly let him share her bedchamber.

"You wanted to speak with me, Dany?' Jon asked, his grey eyes filled with a light curiosity.

"Yes." The Queen smiled. "Rhaegal's wings have fully healed." She had been filled with fear and worry when she had seen Rhaegal's state after the Wight War, but her child had healed slowly, but steadily. And now, he was whole again.

He grinned. "I'm glad to hear it. He served us well in the Wight's War, and I've grown fond of him."

Daenerys nodded. "In the morning, you will take him for a stroll in the sky." She bit back a laugh at the look on Jon's face.

In truth, Jon was a below adequate dragon rider. It made a mockery of everything their house stood for. Even when Daenerys had first used Drogon to destroy her enemies, Drogon had never taken such injuries as Rhaegal had under her guidance.

"I...I don't know what to say," Jon finally said, running a hand through his black hair. He looked much better with his hair out of that ridiculous knot.

"There is nothing to say," Daenerys said, amused. "You need to become a better dragon rider, and I need to be able to trust you when you take Rhaegal south."

"I...what?"

It wasn't a good habit for Queens to roll their eyes, but she couldn't help it. "I will take Drogon, and you will take Rhaegal," she said slowly. "You need to train to better ride Rhaegal and have better control." Her eyes narrowed slightly. "When we meet again at King's Landing, I expect to see an adequate dragon rider." She paused. "And speaking of that, I need you to take Missandei with you. When you meet Asha, she and Missandei will know what to do next."

Jon was silent for several moments. "I'm honored that you trust me with Rhaegal," he said quietly.

She placed her hand atop his own and felt a thrill of pleasure when he didn't pull away. "Don't make me regret it," she said quietly. "I will fly with you tomorrow as well. And we need to work on your High Valyrian as well." She looked him over. "And we have to get you some suitable clothing for flying."

Her nephew gave her an offended look. "What's wrong with my clothing?"

"That heavy cloak of yours isn't good up in the air," Daenerys pointed out. In truth, she was surprised that the pelt hadn't caused him trouble atop of Rhaegal. It was better if he didn't take any further chances. "I'll have your measurements taken and proper clothing made for you." She couldn't do black and red, not yet, but no one would suspect black and grey. It was what Jon wore for the most part.

"Thank you, Dany," Jon gave her a small smile. "And I should say, thank you for everything you have done."

She returned the smile. "I am glad that I was able to help," she said softly. Her frustrations aside, she did not wish to see Westeros dominated by demonic ice creatures.

Jon looked down at his hands before meeting her gaze once more. "I'm working...I'm working on it," he said softly. "I love you, and I don't want to stop loving you."

Her heart swelled with joy and relief at his words. She wasn't going to lose him. The last two dragons would be whole once more. "I am very glad to hear it," she said, gently squeezing his hand.

The next weeks were nothing but an array of council meetings, preparations, and daily flights upon Drogon with Jon and Rhaegal. Jon had done well with the basics, and Daenerys had begun teaching him how to maneuver around objects, such as scorpions or arrows, as well as how to pick up speed through a dive and how to steady a dragon during flight. And of course, how to hold on during it all.

By the time they had parted ways at Winterfell, Daenerys was not as worried as she had been. Jon was a better rider than he had been (though not as good as her), and he would be able to control Rhaegal on his journey south towards the Riverlands and King's Landing. She had made him promise to continue his flying and training when the army rested.

Daenerys and her small force headed east before sailing down the White River. They docked at White Harbour for a few days, where she had the most opportune chance to speak with Lord Manderly before she sailed into the Bite and then south where the Bite met the Narrow Sea. They landed at Claw Isle, which quickly surrendered to her small force and, of course, Drogon.

Rumors spoke of a fleet down south in Blackwater Bay, sailing the waters around Dragonstone and armed with dangerous-looking weapons that she assumed must have been scorpions.

It was Euron Greyjoy, and she knew exactly how to deal with him and his wretched little fleet.

...

Euron Greyjoy studied the sea, feeling nothing but boredom as he sailed the seas along with his fleet. His aim was to watch for Daenerys Targaryen, and if he could, bring down her dragons, but he had another more secret purpose that not even Cersei knew.

In his cabin was something old and ancient, from the land of Old Valyria itself, and with it, he would conquer the world. All he needed was a dragon.

He looked up at the sky with a frown. Where was the girl? He knew she was coming south to take King's Landing. And he knew she would wish to use Dragonstone once more.

The sun was blinding, and he looked away from its hot burning light. He searched the rest of the sky, cursing inwardly as he saw no sign of the Dragon Queen. He faced the sun once more, his hands above his eyes. The light was too strong, and there was nothing there but a faint black speck. Most likely a damned crow or a raven. His gaze moved along the rest of the sky, impatient and bored. As he turned back towards the sun, what he thought was a speck had grown bigger. _What in the name of the Drowned God?_

Realization quickly hit him as he realized what it was. No, who it was. The roar that echoed across the sky alerted the rest of the fleet as well. He could hear the turn of a scorpion and the bolt releasing towards the sky, but it missed its target.

"Get the horn!" He called to one of his mutes, who stared blankly at him. "Go get the horn, damn you! In my cabin!"

He turned back towards the sky just as he saw the dragon atop of him. Its large eyes bore down upon him as it opened its mouth. He could see the heat of the flame erupting from its throat, and he turned to flee.

A step later, he felt the searing hot flame along the back of his flesh, and a scream ripped out of his mouth. He heard and felt the explosion of wood as well, the pieces piercing his skin as he burned alive. As his flesh tore, and his blood boiled from within, Euron finally found himself praying to the Drowned God for the sweet agony of relief through a watery death.

...

Daenerys watched impassively from atop of Drogon at the destroyed fleet beneath her. She circled Dragonstone, making sure there weren't any lingering hidden ships. She directed Drogon to fly over the wreckage until she spotted the ruin and sinking wreckage of the infamous _Silence_. Of all ships, this was the one that could not be allowed to be salvaged. She remembered Asha's written words well, how she had warned of a mysterious horn that had been foreboding. Asha had called it a hellhorn, but Daenerys knew better. That this ill-begotten kraken thought he could use a weapon of Old Valyria to bind her dragons infuriated her.

"Dracarys," she hissed, and a flame spewed from her son's mouth once more, burning the remains of the sinking wreckage.

Drogon flew over the destroyed fleet once more and burned the remains and any who tried to swim away. She then flew back to Claw Isle and retrieved her own fleet before sailing south and landing at Dragonstone. It was easy enough to secure it once more along with Driftmark, and tomorrow she would begin securing the crownlands aside from King's Landing. The first target she had in mind was Duskendale. After that, she would visit the Stormlands.

That night, she had retired to her chambers and ordered a hot bath to be drawn. As she soaked in the water, allowing her body to relax, her mind began to shift towards the political situation. She had to tread carefully, or it would cost her dearly in the end. Dragons plant no trees. But plant a tree she did.

The lavender of her bath was such a delightful scent. She must send for more in Essos when she retook King's Landing. But where was she again? Ah, yes, the tree she had planted. One of treason and which, if everything went according to plan, would bear fruit. Fruit that she would pluck and hurl into the fire.

Samwell Tarly. Would the fat fool act? He had already hated her because of the deaths of his stupid male relations, but she had given him even more cause to despise her when she had cut his fingers off. He had the means of information to hurt her. Would he act upon it and ensnare the others? Would he allow her tree to grow? Her stomach coiled in anticipation.

Well, time would tell. One way or another, she would claim victory.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Y'all I have to say, it's downright infuriating how stupid season 8 was and how stupid they made Daenerys in her war against Cersei. She wouldn't forget about the other kingdoms that owe her allegiance, and she most certainly wouldn't forget about the Iron Fleet. The same one that had attacked her allies back in season 7? Yeah, she's not forgetting. 
> 
> But anyway, thank you to everyone who left a comment, kudos, or bookmarked this story! I hope you all enjoyed this chapter.


	3. Chapter 3

Duskendale fell without much of a fight and Daenerys entered the large port town upon Drogon, with a small portion of her army docked in the harbor, awaiting her signal at any moment's notice of defiance.

Drogon landed at the base of Dun Fort and she dismounted, waiting patiently as the gates were lowered and she was greeted by a small group of men, led by a short one-legged man with a grey beard.

"Gentlemen," she greeted, stroking Drogon's scales. "Who is the lord of this castle?"

"That would be Lord Rykker," the one-legged man answered. "I'm his Castellan, Ser Rufus Leek."

Daenerys gave him a gentle smile. "Well met then, Ser Rufus Leek. I trust you have come to do the wise thing and surrender your castle to me?"

Drogon let out a growl and the men shifted uncomfortably and exchanged frightened glances. "I don't have that authority," Rufus Leek said grimly. "But you may speak with Lady Rykker."

"Very well then," Daenerys said, clasping her hands together. "Send for her. I shall wait here." The men looked at each other and she bit back a laugh. Did they think her foolish enough to separate from Drogon? She would teach them to think better of her.

After several moments, Lady Rykker arrived. She looked to de a decade older than Daenerys with chestnut brown hair and soft green eyes. She was a tall woman and dressed in the colors of House Rykker: blue, white, and grey. "My lady." The woman inclined her head, though her eyes were wary.

"Not 'my lady'," the Dragon Queen corrected firmly. "Your rightful Queen."

"Forgive me," Lady Rykker said, her tone the practiced politeness of a courtier. "But another claims that title."

"Cersei Lannister." Drogon must have sensed the change in her mood, for he let out a fierce growl that had everyone else stumbling back. "A traitor that claims a crown she has no right to." She placed a hand on his scales, willing him to calm himself a bit. "And if I recall correctly, my father elevated your house after the Defiance of Duskendale. Is this how you repay his daughter?" Let her think upon that not too distant history.

"My husband has gone to King's Landing," Lady Rykker stammered out, the fear upon her face apparent. "He was ordered to by Cersei Lannister, upon pain of death."

"How unfortunate, Lady Rykker." Her eyes narrowed slightly. "Yet you need not follow him into folly and death. Bend the knee and surrender your castle."

After her work was done, she stationed some of her Unsullied and Dothraki at Duskendale, before returning to Dragonstone. She also took possession of the town of Rosby. These were weak and easy targets and Cersei had taken most of the fighting men from the areas, but Daenerys would leave no loose ends. What fighting men had remained, Daenerys had summoned them to Dragonstone to be given rudimentary lessons in swordsmanship and battle.

She had sent word to Riverrun of her successes and a raven arrived from her nephew informing her that he had arrived at his uncle's castle and that Robin Arryn had bent the knee and his army would be joining up with them before they would march south. The tidings pleased her, and she decided to turn her attention south, towards the Stormlands where Gendry would have arrived with the small, secret force she had given him.

It was easy enough to mount Drogon once more and fly to Storm's End where Gendry and his men were camped outside of Storm's End. Ser Gilbert Farring had been left as Castellan of the castle by Stannis Baratheon and had refused to surrender the castle to Gendry. How quickly his mind changed, when Drogon's feet landed upon the ground, his wings casting a great shadow over the castle. She almost wished they would have continued to defy her then. Destroying Storm's End would have pleased her and it would have been a delicious irony after all House Baratheon had done against her own House.

Once Gendry was in the castle, Daenerys decided a quick fly over the lands would do. Just low enough that many of the people would see her and know instantly who she was and what fate awaited them should they decide to fight against Gendry or her for that matter.

When Gendry sent out the ravens, the men came and swore allegiance to him as the rightful Lord of the Stormlands and Gendry gave them orders to prepare to march on King's Landing.

Sarella of Dorne sent word and with the Narrow Sea clear of any Iron Born, Princess Sarella was sending her army up the Narrow Sea where they would land at Dragonstone before ferrying west to King's Landing where they would form a blockade in Blackwater Bay.

Lady Mina Tyrell was more than happy to send the remainder of Highgarden up North through Westeros to aid Daenerys in her conquest. The sack of Highgarden and the death of Lady Olenna Tyrell had made sure that House Tyrell would never back Cersei Lannister. And with the deaths of Randall and Dickon Tarly, any chance of infighting in the Reach quickly died.

One day, Daenerys sat in council when she received news that there was a pirate in the Narrow Sea causing a bit of a disturbance.

"Pirate?" she questioned, arching an eyebrow at Varys. "From Essos?" She would have to make it clear that she would not tolerate pirating from either Westeros or Essos.

"He calls himself the Lord of Waters," the eunuch said with a dry smile. "What is truly fascinating is that he has three warships."

"Warships?" The Queen frowned. "How would he come into something like that?" Could it be someone that escaped Euron Greyjoy's fleet? But she had been sure to destroy the entire fleet. She had searched and double searched for any trace of survivors for they could not be allowed to live.

"There is a tale that Cersei had a man on her small council," Varys continued. "His name was Aurane Waters, a noble bastard of the House Velaryon. He was the Master of Ships."

"Go on." Her interest was truly piqued now.

"When Cersei was arrested by the High Septon, he fled with the warships he had been commissioned to build and was never heard from again."

Ah, so he had abandoned Cersei and made off with her ships? A turncoat then. Perhaps he could be of some use to her. She rose to her feet, and brushed off her skirts, knowing what she intended to do.

"I wish we had met under better circumstances," Daenerys informed the man as he was hurled to her feet in chains. He was a member of the House Velaryon, a house of Old Valyria and one that had been closely allied with hers. Alas, it seemed fate had other plans.

At the sight of Drogon soaring above his ships, Aurane Waters had quickly surrendered and Daenerys added the three dromonds to her own fleet.

"I, I..." Aurane Waters could only stutter and Daenerys let out a soft sigh.

"You were Cersei's Master of the Ships, were you not?"

He swallowed heavily. "Aye, I was."

"I know it was a bit of a time ago, but I must say I am curious as to if you have any information that could prove of some use to me. It might save your life." His grey-green eyes widened and he swallowed again.

After several moments of silence, she frowned. It seemed he needed a bit of encouragement. "Tell me everything you know."

"I must say most of his knowledge was not fruitful, but it is good to have more ships," Daenerys said as she took a sip from her cup of wine. Aurane had told her tales of Cersei's incompetence and willfulness. It seemed that Cersei had been fond of Aurane Waters, but for what reason, Daenerys could not imagine why. He had also given her more details about Cersei's trial and the charges that had been brought against her before she had blown up Baelor's Sept with wildfire. It only stood to solidify her view of Cersei as evil and incompetent. But how to best deal with her? She could no longer trust Tyrion in the matter of his family because with all said, she could see that he still cared for Lannister Usurper. And that could prove dangerous for her and her goals.

"What will your grace do with him?" Tyrion asked.

"I could forgive his desertion of Cersei," Daenerys said. "But he chose to become a pirate. I despise pirates." She would let Drogon make quick work of him. "He will burn."

There was a quick flash across Varys face and the Queen pretended not to notice. He thought himself clever and he was, oh he was, but Daenerys knew the measure of him by now. He hated to see people burn. But it was the way of her house, and it did not mean she was mad. It was a shame that Varys did not understand this simple fact. It would lead to his own destruction.

She dismissed her council, but Tyrion remained. "My lord hand?" She prompted, watching as the Lannister fiddled with his hands as he began to work up his courage.

"We need to talk about the succession," he said quietly. She turned away from him, looking out into the sea as she leaned against one of the pillars. "Did I not say that I would discuss the succession when I had the crown?"

"I know, but there is something else now that has changed that." For once, Samwell didn't fail and did as she wanted him to.

"What's changed?" Her voice was calm, though inwardly she was eager to learn how he had come to know the secret.

"I'm the Hand of the Queen," Tyrion began as he approached her. "It's my job to be aware of any danger to you."

That much was true, at least. "And?" She looked down at him, raising an eyebrow.

"Jon Snow isn't Ned Stark's bastard," Tyrion said. "He's the son of Rhaegar Targaryen and Lyanna Stark."

Daenerys allowed a few moments of silence. "Who told you this?"

He looked away guiltily but he answered all the same. "Vary told me. It's his job as Master of Whispers." Tyrion seemed to have a bad habit of being loyal to people who didn't deserve it. Before the end, she would need a new Hand.

"And how did he come upon this knowledge?" Tyrion didn't know, but it was a mummer's question. The fat Tarly had taken it upon himself to send a letter down to Varys.

"I don't know," Tyrion answered. "But we must discuss this and what it means."

"Means?" She repeated. "This changes nothing. The Iron Throne is mine. Jon does not want to press his claim, in fact, he agreed to keep it a secret my lord. You would be wise to do the same. Your conduct of late does not befit the position I have given you. Think upon that, my lord. The other matter does not concern you."

...

Varys sealed the letter and tucked it within his sleeve. It seemed to be all he was doing of late, even more so, but this recent revelation had upset everything he had worked to. The letter from Samwell Tarly had come as a surprise, and at first, Varys could hardly believe it, but the more he thought upon it, the more it made sense. It explained why the honorable Eddard Stark brought home a "bastard" when he wasn't known for being an unfaithful man.

It was highly ironic, that a secret Targaryen heir actually existed when Varys had taken the time to groom one in secret. One that would know that kingship is his duty and not his right. He had bid his time, waiting for the right moment to introduce Daenerys to her "nephew" but as time went by, he found Daenerys willful, proud, and violent. Not fit for the Iron Throne, but she had dragons and he thought it only made sense for her to defeat Cersei. Then an "unfortunate" accident could occur and Aegon Targaryen could come and claim what was his.

But perhaps Jon or "Jacaerys Targaryen" was whom he should back. He was sure of where Jon's coin had landed and he could control Rhaegal and perhaps Drogon if necessary.

For now, while he thought upon his next course, he was certain, he would need to undermine Daenerys and her claim. The rest he would deal with.

...

"You are certain?" Daenerys murmured quietly to her handmaiden, a Lyseni woman, named Pantera with white-gold hair and blue eyes. She wasn't just a handmaiden, but a woman trained in spycraft and more importantly someone she trusted more than Varys. After all, the crumbling of slavery in the Bay of Dragons led to the end of slavery in the Free Cities. Many were grateful to her, and Pantera was such a person and had joined her on her return to Westeros.

"Yes, you grace," Pantera said. "I intercepted his letters and made copies of them for you, and I sent them along as intended."

Daenerys could not help the small smirk that came to her lips then. "Well done," she said, holding out her hand. Pantera placed the letters within them.

...

He could hear the footsteps thundering down the stone halls. He placed the letter in the fire, watching as it shrunk and burned, destroying all evidence of his treason. He was nothing if not thorough.

The door flew open and there stood Grey Worm with several other Unsullied. "Varys," the Essosi said simply. "You are under arrest on charges of high treason against our queen. Do not fight. Come with us."

Varys kept his hands clasped together as he was led out of his chambers and into a dungeon in the bowels of Dragonstone. There he remained, and how long he spent there, Varys could not entirely tell, though if he had to guess, it was nothing more than a few days.

Which was why he held his hands up to his face when a bit of light flew into the room, courtesy of the door swinging open. His time had come.

Grey Worm stared at him impassively and nodded at the guards to take him. He was taken through the halls and outside, onto the grassy cliffs where Daenerys awaited him.

Night had fallen, and there was no light but the lit torches that led him to the area where Daenerys Targaryen awaited him.

The Targaryen girl was dress in the colors of her house, a vibrant red mantle dress, in the military and regal style that lately favored. She stared at him for several moments before she nodded at Grey Worm, who bowed and left with the rest of the Unsullied, leaving the two of them alone.

It was rare for Varys to be taken by surprise. This was one of those times.

"I stand accused of high treason, and you meet with me alone?" He asked, raising an eyebrow.

She gave him a cold smile and suddenly the ground beneath his feet began to shake and out of the darkness came the gigantic and monstrous head that belonged to none other than Drogon.

"You have more than earned the title of Spider," the Targaryen Queen began. "You weave a lot of webs, and you have ensnared many."

That much was true. "What I do, I do for the good of the people," he said.

"Ah yes, backing one monarch one day, then backstabbing him the next." Daenerys glared at him. "Was it not you that encouraged my father's madness? His flights of fancy and hallucinations?" She gave him a mocking look. "Tell me how was that for the good of the people?"

She would not shame him. He knew why he did what he did. "To give the people incentive," he said defiantly. "Aerys was not a good monarch, and they needed to see it."

"And Rhaegar? Elia and her children? My mother?" There was a slight hesitation. "And Viserys?"

"The weeds need to go before new seeds can be planted." He would make no apologies.

Her violet eyes lit up, her face twisting into a picture of pure fury. She took a few steps forward and Drogon followed, his loud footsteps shaking the ground as he followed his tiny mother.

"And yet, you invoke the name of the so-called "weeds" for your plots," the Targaryen Queen snarled. "Did you think I would not learn of this "Aegon Targaryen"?"

For once, Varys was left utterly speechless. He had assumed that she knew about his machinations regarding Jon, but to know of Aegon? That meant she had access to knowledge that he did not have. She had trusted people working on her behalf that he knew nothing of.

After several moments of silence, Daenerys let out a soft sigh and stepped back from him. "I told you what would happen if you betrayed me."

There was a knot in his throat and his stomach. "You did," he managed as Drogon's head began to move forward.

"Lord Varys, I, Daenerys Targaryen, First of My Name, Breaker of Chains, and Mother of Dragons sentence you to die." She gave him one last cool look. "Ipradagon."

Varys gave her a startled look. Was the word not Dracarys? That much he knew.

Drogon stepped forward his mouth looming wide enough that Varys could see the spark of flame at the back of his throat. A quick burst of flame erupted from his mouth and covered Varys.

His screams filled the air. The fire was hot, but not the usual ash inducing flame that Drogon was capable of emitting. It was the type of flame a dragon would use when it wanted to char something and eat it.

Varys writhed and screamed on the ground as his skin burned. His skin peeled and cracked, and just when he thought the fire would end his life, Drogon's great head shot forward and teeth as sharp as Valyrian swords began to pierce his skin.

Inhuman screams rang even higher and the sounds of crunching bone and cooked flesh were the only sound in that moment.

...

Daenerys watched as her son finished his meal before he settled down upon the grass. She walked up to his massive head and stroked his scales, thinking of the next moves she would make.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I do apologize for the long wait, but I hope you all enjoyed this chapter! And thank you to everyone who left a comment, kudos, or bookmarked this story!


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